“Ah, nice of you two to come up for air,” JJ says wryly as we enter the bar.

“Is there a problem, JJ?” I ask, knowing that he fucking hates the thought of me having my hands all over Sadie. And he also hates that there’s not one tiny thing he can do about it. Fuck me, no one would be good enough for her, and he’d have a coronary if it were someone else. This is mild for him compared to how it could be.

“Well, other than your brother kicking off because he wants to ride and his hands aren’t anywhere near healed enough yet, no, no problem at all.” He rolls his eyes as he grabs up his leather jacket off the back of one of the sofas.

“Is he still bandaged?” I stop walking just in front of him and hold Sadie’s hand a little tighter, drawing her closer to my side. She doesn’t protest, and clasps her fingers around mine, squeezing gently.

“Yeah.” JJ frowns. I can see the weight of what happened to Ruck is sitting heavily on his shoulders. As the President of this club, he has the responsibility for all of us, and that’s something JJ takes very seriously.

“Just let him ride, man. What’s the harm?” I shrug.

“Apart from the fact that forty-eight hours ago he was nailed to a fucking cross?”

“I know he’s gonna be sore. But, fuck, JJ. Don’t you think he’s been through enough? If he wants to ride, let the man ride.”

“He can barely hold a fucking spoon, Ramsey,” he growls, leaning in closer to me.

“Look,” I say, placing my hand on his shoulder. “He needs to figure out for himself if he can do it or not—not be told that he can’t. Let him ride, man. If it hurts, he’ll soon turn around and come home.”

“Fine.” He slings his jacket over his shoulder and frowns. “But it’s on you. Your brother. Your responsibility.”

“Fine.” I roll my eyes as he starts to move off, then frowns to himself before stepping back.

“Hi, Princess.” He kisses Sadie’s cheek, and she smiles up at him like he’s just given her the world. Jealousy pounds me right in the heart. I want all her smiles to be for me. I’m a selfish fucker, and I’m well aware of that. I don’t want to share her in any way, shape or form, but it’s JJ—her dad. Her fucking dad. So I back down. Because I don’t have a fucking choice in the matter.

“Hi,” she whispers.

“If you were any other guy kissing my girl…” I warn, my voice a low rumble.

“Luckily I’m not just any guy.” He winks at Sadie. “Oh, Ramsey, I was gonna send you and Tex, but if you wanna take Ruck instead, you can go to the Liquor Box and tell Vinny I want the place done up nice. Tomorrow night, we’re having a party. All the boys, their old ladies, everyone. I want men on the door, our best girls behind the bar, and the best dancers up on those poles, got it?”

“Yeah, I got it. What’s it for?”

“You’ll see.” He winks at Sadie and pats me on the chest before shrugging his jacket on as he leaves. “Oh,” he calls back as he pulls open the door. “There’s a cut on my desk for Ruck. Lia’s added all of his patches.”

“Bro,” I call out as I bang my fist on Ruck’s door. “You wanna ride out?”

He swings it open and narrows his eyes at me. “What did you just say?”

“Nice to see you too, man.” I lean against the door jamb and raise one brow at him. “I said, do you wanna ride out?”

“What did JJ say to you?” He jerks his chin up, looking at me with speculation.

“Fuck, man, are you gonna be a bitch about shit all day because if ya are, I’ll ride on my own.”

“Don’t want your sympathy ride, thanks.” He turns and slams the door, but I jam my foot in the door and fling it open again.

“Hey…” I yell, making him stand still with his back to me. “Turn around and look at me.”

As he turns, his shoulders drop. This isn’t him. He hates it when there’s an atmosphere between us, and it usually blows over within a couple of hours. But this feels different. Everything is different, and he’s not handling it well.

“Yes, JJ told me you wanted to ride out. No, that’s not why I came here. I’ve got shit to do, and I miss doing it with my brother. So do you wanna ride out, or not?”

He glances to his hands and looks back up at me. “I don’t—”

“Look,” I say, walking toward him. “We’re not riding to Mexico for fuck’s sake. Just a few errands. You know what? Why don’t you ride with me on my bike? You get to ride but without the pain. And it means you get out of this dingy fuckin’ room that stinks like a couple’a fuckin’ skunks partied in here.” I turn my nose up and shake my head.

“Thanks, bro.” He gives a tight-lipped smile.

“You good to go?”

“Let’s do it.”

He follows me out and up the stairs to JJ’s office. I push the door open, stride over to the desk, grab the cut and toss it to Ruck who’s standing in the doorway.

“What’s this?”

“Yours. If you’re anything like me, you’ll feel naked without it.”

“I did, I—”

I cut off his sentence, not needing him to retreat into his head with all of the emotional shit. “Put it on. We’ve got shit to do.”

I have no doubt that Ruck hates being on the back of my bike instead of riding his own, but his hands are fucked up and will take time to heal. In the meantime, he’s going to have to suck it up and ride with me, which is a much better option than wallowing in that dark fucking room of his. It smelled of defeat, and I fucking hated that.

I park on the sidewalk, making pedestrians walk around the bike. We get a few snide looks, but no one dares say anything to us. I grin as I push open the door to the Liquor Box. With my brother by my side, my girl back at HQ, and The Wolves seeming to be less of a threat with half of them broken or dead, life is on the up.

“Vinny, my man!” I laugh as I walk right past the bar and into his waiting man hug. It’s been months since we saw Vinny. He’s a fucking tough, ex-marine that works private security jobs from time to time, and has only just come back to Reno after a massive, top-secret job that he wouldn’t disclose one tiny detail about before he left, no matter how hard we pressed him. Loyal to his fucking grave, and priceless in this world.

“How’s it going, chief?” he asks, releasing me but keeping both his fucking great big hands on my shoulders. We’re about the same height, but this guy makes me feel small. Seeing him behind the bar here should be good for business. No one is gonna fuck with him.

“Good. All the better for having you here.” I look around and see full tables. Men enjoying a beer and a show, and not a hint of trouble.

“I heard what happened.” He nods to Ruck and glances down at his heavily bandaged hands. “You doing okay?”

Ruck shrugs. “Could be worse, I suppose.”

“It can always be worse, man.” Vinny offers with a small smile, squeezing Ruck’s shoulder. “What are you boys drinking?”

“Beer,” I answer, scanning the people in the bar. It’s not that I don’t trust Vinny’s judgment on who he lets through the doors, but I like to take in who’s here. Pay attention to faces and actions. “Lots of new faces, Vin.”

“Yeah. Your man, Lenny, he had a very… select clientele.” He eyes me cautiously as he pops the caps off the bottles and pushes them across the bar toward us.

“Select?”

“Yeah.” He leans in with his elbows on the counter and his voice low. “I’ve kicked out so many deadbeats in the last few days. Dealers pushing crank across the table top in plain view. One dude even brought a whore in through the back door and fucked her in the men’s room.”

“Fuck, man.” I sigh. I’m also kicking myself for not seeing it sooner. I guess it had been that way for so long that we were all used to it.

“Don’t worry that handsome face of yours, Ramsey.” He taps my cheek with his palm. “I’ve shipped them out and called in some favors to get my best girls in.” He nods in the direction of the poles, raising his brows, and Ruck and I turn to observe them.

“They’re good,” I comment, admiring their ability, but not once feeling even a tiny throb of desire. They’re just bodies—earning me and my club money.

“They’re more than good, Ram. They’re the best.”

“Ruck, you approve?” I ask him, tipping my bottle in the dancer’s direction.

“Yeah.” He nods his appreciation, swigging his beer. “The blonde has great titties.” He grins, making us all laugh. Ruck is still in there. I just gotta make sure I bring him to the surface and keep him there.

I bang my hand down on the bar, drawing Vinny’s attention. “Tomorrow night, Vin. Can you put together something at short notice?”

“What d’ya have in mind?”

“Prez wants a club party. Beer flowing freely, your best girls on the stands, and men on the door so we don’t get no trouble.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem. What’s the occasion?”

“There isn’t one that I know of. It’s been fucking tough around here, and we all need to let loose. Have a little fun.”

“Consider it done.” He thrusts his hand into mine, and we shake on it.

“Here.” He pops the caps on two more bottles of beer and slides them onto the bar in front of me. “Enjoy the beer, the women too if you want. I’ve got shit to do, but you need anything, shout. Got me?”

“Yeah, man.” I nod my appreciation and Ruck and I settle on a couple of bar stools.

“You doing okay?” I ask quietly, hating that he looks so tired and pained.

“Yeah.” He shrugs, exchanging his now empty bottle of beer for a full one.

“Go easy, man. You’re on a ton of painkillers, most of them have been fed intravenously for the last twenty-four hours, so they’re racing nicely around your system.”

“Good shit that was, too. Made me forget who I fuckin’ was there for a while,” he grumbles dryly. He glances at the guy who just sat next to him and turns toward me with his back to the man.

I lean in closer and lower my voice. “You know him?”

“Nah. Just can’t be dealing with people,” he sneers, picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“You know, I never got the chance to say thank you, for…you know, getting Sadie out of there, and—”

“Don’t,” he warns.

“Ruck, I know I gave you a fucking huge responsibility getting her out of there. I had to stay behind with Dev. I needed to stop the rest of you being arrested. You see that, don’t you? I mean, Sadie, she…Well, she shouldn’t have fucking gone there. I told her to stay back at HQ, and as much as I love her independence and her sass, fuck, it’s gonna give me more gray hairs than JJ.” Mentioning JJ in the same sentence as Sadie, and sitting here looking at Ruck, reminds me that he doesn’t know. It would have been so easy to slip into a conversation about them, about how it came about, and about how it blows my fucking mind that when you strip everyone back, we’re all connected somehow, somewhere down the line. I need to tell him. I need to talk to him like we always have, about everything that’s happened and about nothing in particular. I hate that we have this fucking big secret between us, and from my perspective, it’s hanging heavily in the air. “Ruck…” I say, ready to lay it all on the table, but he’s sitting there, concentrating intently, with his brows knitted together.

He raises a finger to his lips. “Shhh.” He raises his head, turning slightly to listen in to the guy’s conversation behind him. I don’t question him further. If Ruck’s listening to something someone else is saying, you can be sure it’s worth listening to.

He places his beer bottle on the bar top carefully and raises himself off the stool, moving slowly. His gaze is focused, intense, and I wonder what the fuck is going on in his head. For a split second, I question if he’s thinking straight after everything he’s been through, but I have to trust him. I look around where he’s now standing in front of me, and see nothing out of the ordinary, just a guy, arm propped on the bar, talking to another guy. But within a second, that all changes.

Ruck walks around so he’s facing the two men that are having a conversation.

“Can I help you?” the guy asks, and in that second I’m up and by Ruck’s side. Ready for whatever the fuck is going down. Ruck’s jaw tightens, and I’m about to put my arm out between them, when Ruck tucks his hand into his waistband, pulls out a blade, and drives it through the back of the man’s hand, pinning it to the bar top before anyone can figure out what the hell is going on.

“Ruck!” I yell. But he’s so focused he doesn’t hear me, and turns toward the man’s friend, head-butting him with a crack of bone and an explosion of blood as his nose is flattened against his face and he drops off his bar stool.

“What the fuck, bro?” I yell, not knowing which one of them to grab a hold of first.

“This fucker,” he turns back and slams his hand around the man’s throat, “is dealing cocaine.” He squeezes tighter, choking the man so hard he can’t make a sound. “I heard ya. Purest shit in town, huh?”

“There a problem, boys?” Vinny’s huge frame creates a barrier between us and everyone else here in the bar.

“Yeah, we got two problems.” Ruck sucks in a breath between his teeth, and I can see he’s battling pain from his hand and pent-up rage from not only this situation but the last week’s problems too.

“Get them into the fucking office, now.” I grab the guy by the back of his collar, and Vinny heaves the other one up from the floor. Ruck grabs his knife and pulls it out of the guy’s hand, making him cry out as he does. “You okay, bro?” I ask, indicating to his bandages with a nod.

“Never fucking better.” He wipes his knife on the guy’s shirt, leaving a stripe of blood down the front, and slides it back into the sheath that’s secured on the waistband of his jeans.

We march the men into the office and seat them next to one another. Ruck stands to one side, I stand to the other, and Vinny stands square in front of them.

“You know him?” Vinny asks the guy that was planning on buying the drugs. His voice is low, calm, and controlled.

“No, uh, I mean, I just…”

“Spit it out, for fuck’s sake,” Ruck barks impatiently, pulling his knife out and placing it again the guy’s throat.

Vinny and I exchange a look. We need to get Ruck under control.

“I was just told to meet him here,” the guy stutters nervously.

“By who?”

“Billy Hagan. He said it was the best shit around.”

“Oh, he did now, did he?” I step forward, into their line of vision, while piecing everything together. There were rumors Billy Hagan had hooked up with a new dealer, and I think he needs to be paid a visit. “What’s your name?” I ask the dealer.

“I ain’t telling you shit,” he sneers, raising his chin. Ruck jumps to move in on him, but I hold out my hand to stop him. I’ve learned my lesson. We need him alive if we’re to get information. With Lenny still in a coma at my hands, this guy could be the only key to more information.

“Who’s your supplier?” I bark.

“Suck my dick,” he replies with a sneer.

“Vinny,” I call over my shoulder.

“Yes, boss.”

“You got a spoon?”

“A spoon?” he asks. “Matter of fact, I got one here.” He takes a teaspoon from the coffee cup sitting on his desk and hands it to me.

“Hold him,” I order, and Vinny is behind the guy before he can try and run, pulling his arms behind his back and holding him so tightly he can barely move. I grip his hair and yank his head back with one hand, before lowering the spoon to his eye socket and pressing it into his eyelid. He blows uneven breaths through his nose, trying his hardest not to make a sound, but as the spoon starts curving deeper around his eyeball, he starts to lose composure. “Your supplier…”

“Mmm.” He presses his lips together tightly, forcing himself to keep as quiet as he possibly can.

“You know what happens as I push this spoon harder, your eyelid will eventually fold inwards, and your eyeball will just pop right out. But it’ll still be attached, and—”

“Okay, okay!” he yells desperately, coughing out a lungful of air.

“Okay, what?” I tighten my grip on his hair.

“I don’t know who he is exactly. I meet his men once a week at the airstrip in Salinas.”

Salinas. The paper in Vaughn’s waste basket…

“Who are his men?” I grip him tighter, almost shaking the words out of him.

“I don’t know who they are. I’m telling the truth, honestly.”

I push the spoon harder into his eye, past the eyelid, and the curve of the spoon cups his eyeball. “When?” I growl, getting more than impatient now.

“Next week. Tuesday, at midnight.” His voice trembles as he forces the words out around heavy, pain-filled breaths.

I pull the spoon from the guy’s eye, and he cries out with relief. “Tie ‘em up. Take them to the basement,” I tell Vinny and Ruck. “We got ourselves some guests until Tuesday.”

I train my gun on them as Vinny and Ruck cable tie them. Ruck still has that wild look in his eyes, and I’m not sure if we are sitting on a ticking time bomb or waiting for him to simmer back down. He’s never blown. The rage threatens, bubbling beneath the surface, but underneath the pain and anguish, there’s a quiet, easygoing version of my brother and I’m gonna do everything it takes to get him back. While Vinny and Ruck take the men down to the basement, I pour a shot of Jack in the office and sit in Vinny’s huge wingback chair.

Salinas.

Tuesday.

Vaughn.

Fuck.

The piece of paper from Vaughn’s office. I pull the calendar off the wall behind me and look at Tuesday’s date. May twenty-seventh. 5/27.

It looks like Vaughn has his hand in more than mergers and acquisitions.